


Who knows what my heart is really like?

by lirin



Category: Romeo & Juliet - Takarazuka Revue
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/pseuds/lirin
Summary: Five times Tybalt thought highly of his little cousin, and one time he was disappointed in her.





	Who knows what my heart is really like?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



When his baby cousin was born, Tybalt was old enough to think himself quite grown-up, but young enough that he didn't fully understand what it all meant. 

Mama muttered about how she was sure her son was better than that tiny girl child, and that he didn't deserve to lose a fortune to any child of her husband's sister. Papa patted him on the shoulder and said at least he'd still be heir to the leadership of the Capulets, since a girl couldn't take that role. Auntie rumpled his hair and told him to say hello to the baby, then swept off to rest before he could stumble a greeting in reply.

Tybalt ignored them all and held out his hand to his cousin. Juliet could just barely curl her tiny hand around his littlest finger. He held out the little finger on his other hand, and she did it again. He thought it was the best trick he'd ever seen anyone do. Having a baby cousin was going to be  _amazing_.

He was so glad he wasn't a Montague. They didn't have anything as wonderful as baby Juliet. Nor would they ever, if he had anything to say about it.

* * *

Juliet learned to run almost as soon as she could walk—and she could climb stairs even before that, although she had learned that it was faster and easier to sit at the bottom of the stairs and cry loudly until someone (usually Tybalt) couldn't stand to see her sad and carried her where she wanted to go.

But once she learned to run, Juliet was unstoppable. It seemed to Tybalt that there was nowhere in Verona that he could go where she wouldn't find him. He would go out to play with his friends, and ten minutes later, Marin and Donato would roll their eyes as Juliet came toddling up as fast as her little legs would take her. "Tibble! Tibble!"

"Do you want to play with us?" Tybalt called. He ran down the stairs from Marin's veranda. "We're playing marbles. You roll the big marble and try to hit as many of the small ones as you can."

"She can't play!" Donato said. "She's just a baby."

Tybalt glared at him. "Of course my cousin can play with us."

The nice thing about being the next leader of the Capulets was that people didn't argue much. Juliet got to play. Tybalt made sure she won all of Marin's and Donato's marbles.

* * *

Six-year-old Juliet was really too big for Tybalt to carry pickaback, but she giggled and insisted, so he did it anyway. At least that way they were sure of going the same direction—though she could direct him by yelling in his ear (accompanied by tears only at the last resort) just as easily as she could by tugging on his hand or wrapping her hands around his waist. Sometimes, Donato laughed at Tybalt and said Juliet had him wrapped around her little finger, but Tybalt always ignored him. Why shouldn't he do what Juliet wanted? She was so exquisite, surely all her desires were worthwhile.

And besides, today both she and he wanted the same thing.

It had started the day before, when Juliet had complained of how little opportunity she had had to see anything outside of the city. It was true that Lord Capulet was very protective of his only child. For him to be fully satisfied, Juliet would probably have to stay locked up in a tower until one day, perhaps, being allowed out to be married. But only to the perfect suitor—her father would dream of no less. And Tybalt supported him in that; he knew of no one who was worthy of his precious Juliet. But he didn't think her father should shelter her to this degree. If she wanted to see something of the world, then she should.

Not that he could show Juliet very much of the world in an hour's walk—but then what were Mantua and Padua, compared to Verona? And he could show her Verona.

Juliet giggled and tugged on his hair as he trudged further up the hill. He really ought to have made her walk part of the way.

At the top of the hill was a tree. He made her climb that herself; he didn't think he could get all the way up the tree with her on his back. "From here, you can see all of Verona," he said grandly when he joined her at the top.

"Wow!" Juliet said. "It's beautiful. Where's my house?"

Tybalt pointed.

"And the church?"

Tybalt pointed again.

"And all of this will be ours someday?"

Tybalt nodded. "Well, most of it. Except for the couple of bits we haven't convinced the Montagues to sell yet."

Juliet frowned. "Don't they know they're not welcome in Verona?" Tybalt didn't know anybody who frowned as attractively as Juliet. Her lower lip poked out and her eyelids lowered, but she was never capable of frowning for long before the sun would shine again in her eyes.

"I know," he said, clinging tighter to the tree. "Don't worry, though. We'll chase them out for good one day."

"And then all of Verona will be ours," Juliet said with a sigh. She smiled, and her smile was as wonderful as Tybalt remembered. "It's beautiful, don't you think?"

"Yes," Tybalt said. He wasn't talking about Verona.

* * *

Mercutio and Benvolio were the most annoying people Tybalt had ever met. He couldn't wait until his swordsmaster gave him permission to carry a sword outside his lessons, and then he could teach them a proper lesson.

Until then, he'd have to stick with a strong fist to their pitiful jawbones when they said something injudicious. And a kick to the shins, and a couple of elbows to the face. Two against one was a bit uncomfortable, to be honest. He wished he'd had Marin and Donato along. They weren't anywhere near as skillful in a fight, but at least they'd be able to get in the way and distract Tybalt's opponents a bit while he went for the finishing blow.

"Bunch of dumb Montagues!" someone yelled from beside him. "Meanie faces!" It was a girlish voice—Juliet!

Tybalt grabbed her and scrambled backwards, putting at least a few feet in between his cousin and his Montague opponents. "Juliet, what are you doing here?"

"Helping you," Juliet said. Her lower lip was poking out, and the corners of her mouth turned down. Tybalt frowned back. Did she expect him to be happy she was here, poking her nose in where it could get punched? "It was two against one," she said. "So I came to your aid."

Tybalt wanted to yell at her, but he wasn't sure she'd understand why he was shouting. Instead, he seized Juliet's arm and pulled her down the street. Behind him, Mercutio yelled something about cowards, but Tybalt knew he was only trying to rile him; he didn't really think he was a coward. Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't a very rude thing to say, and on a different day Tybalt would have punched him for it, but he needed to keep Juliet safe. "Do you want a canisione?" he asked her. "Or an apple pasty?"

Juliet nodded enthusiastically. "And then can we go to the rose gardens? Or the orchard?"

"Anything you want," Tybalt said distractedly. He promised himself that tomorrow he'd track down Mercutio and make him repay his careless words with interest.

* * *

Juliet had been sixteen for three days and nine hours when Tybalt finally allowed himself to admit what that meant. She was old enough to marry now. And she wouldn't be marrying him. Cousins in the Capulet clan weren't allowed to marry.

Not that he'd ever expected to marry Juliet, of course. Why would such a thing be on his mind? She was just a girl he'd spent a lot of time with as children. It wasn't as if she was the most beautiful—

It wasn't as if there weren't other women who would fit by his side just as well as—

She just wouldn't, that was all. It was not possible, it would never be possible, and that was all there was to it.

* * *

And to think, yesterday he had thought that  _Paris_  was a poor choice for Juliet's bridegroom. Tybalt hadn't imagined how much worse it could be. Even now, he could scarcely believe it.

Juliet knew better than to marry a Montague. Surely his beautiful, sparkling Juliet would never stoop so low?

He should have been at the church to stop them. Why had he not seen this coming? He should have somehow realized that this would happen. He could have followed them to the church and thrown Romeo Montague out on his ear.

So much time he'd spent with Juliet in their youth. So many moments he'd looked out for her. Yet the one time he had the chance to really make a difference in her life—to fight the dragon for his beloved princess—he'd been half-drunk at a party on the other side of town. He hadn't even known that anything was happening, that there was any battle to be fought.

It wasn't too late. He could fight the dragon for her yet. She might not realize that she needed it, but she would understand eventually. He'd make sure of it.


End file.
